From a Bar Stool

20 x 20

Oil on Canvas

Gallery Wrapped

May 2020

There’s a story in each painting and an entire library of stories in every roadside pub at 2:38 on a Friday afternoon. All you need to do is listen.

This story belongs to Dale who I sat with for a little under an hour in this bar after I wrapped up this painting. I pulled up a bar stool and said “hey.” That’s it. “Hey.” He talked. And I listened. And listened. And listened. Sometimes, all someone needs is the ear of a patient stranger.

Dale was handsome. About 35 I’m guessing. Eyes as blue as robin’s eggs. A head of thick, curly yellow hair. Tanned. A tattoo of a long, sleek, stretched-out panther on his forearm. He had the forearms of a man who swings a 22 ounce framing hammer all day. The panther flexed when he did. Dale wore a denim shirt with frayed sleeves cut up to his arm pits. Perfect teeth.

Dale:

“Sometimes the rain falls harder out there than Dick’s hat band,” Dale said to me leaning over a Jack and Coke as I sat down. I have no idea what that meant.

He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder through the dusty screen window and back toward Lake Apopka. The panther flexed. “You ever sit in a bass boat all damn day in the pouring rain? No? Well you know what? My gran-daddy used to say that you can’t catch a damn bass unless your damn ass is wet. Well we caught some damn bass that damn day I’ll tell you that’s a damn fact right there. And I’m talkin’ worms, not damn shiners.”

Apparently Dale likes to say damn.

“One more, Dallas. And this is my last drink. No matter what I say,” Dale said to the bartender. Dallas had her back to us. She took a long draw off of a black and pink vape pen.

Leon Russell sang “Out in the Woods” in the background.

Dale continued:

“Everyone thinks that they know exactly what it is that they want in life. She went to my head. It’s as simple as that. She went straight to my damn head. In the morning she’d give me a hug that would last me all damn day long. And it went straight to my damn head. But now, after eighteen years, ya know what? I don’t even wanna go home. I just wanna stay here in this spot. And I’ve been all over the damn place. Lots of spots. But now I just wanna stay here in this damn spot on this damn stool.”

“One more, Dallas. And this is…” “I know. Your last one no matter what you say,” Dallas finished his sentence. And with that she completed every word she was to speak over the next 45 minutes. She brought him another Jack & Coke. “Take to your heels, boy! My daddy said that to me on graduation day. That was nineteen years ago. Take to our heels, boy and go see some stuff. Leave this town. And you know what? I’ve seen some damn stuff. I’ve been to Las Vegas and I’ve been to Washington damn DC. And I rode the damn rapids once in North damn Carolina. It was April. We drank snow water and ate speckled trout. Tell me that ain’t some damn stuff.”

“One more, Dallas. And this is my last one. No matter what I say.” Dallas obliged.

“I put a note in a bottle and threw into the Atlantic damn Ocean at Cocoa Beach three summers ago during Spring Break. I won’t tell you what I wrote. That’s private.” Dale went on. “But you know what happened? You ain’t gonna believe this damn stuff. I went out the next morning and there is was. Right damn there. The same damn bottle with the same damn note in it, washed up there on the same damn spot on the same damn beach and the damn thing hadn’t gone one damn foot. Not one damn foot. Story of my damn life.”

“One more, Dallas. And this is my last one. No matter what I say.” Dallas obliged. Again.

“She left me right there on my own damn doorstep. All alone. Just up and left me. Right there. Had her stuff all packed up in the carport along with all of her damn CDs and 50 damn Beanie Babies. Hasn’t answered my texts all damn day.

She has green eyes. And she draws butterflies. Beautiful damn butterflies. Draws ‘em every damn where in the whole damn house.” “I just wanna go home. Maybe she’s back. Maybe she’s still there. God I hope she’s still there. She has green eyes. Did I ever tell you that? Red hair and green damn eyes. Green and red. Just like Christmas.”

And with that, Dale left.

True damn story.